


when the party's over

by sad_goomy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Break Up, F/M, Heartbreak, Post-Canon, Sad Ending, Unhealthy Relationships, almost, who's in the mood to suffer with me?, yes the title is that one billie eilish song and yes that's what this is based on don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 02:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17840927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_goomy/pseuds/sad_goomy
Summary: Some conversations aren't meant to be had on the back of a ferry.Some relationships aren't meant to last.





	when the party's over

**Author's Note:**

> Listen [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6WNdcZpDhQ)]

 

Tonight could have gone better.

“That was a disaster.”

It’s the first thing that Gladion’s said the entire boat ride back. Moon looks over, her chin on her hand as she drawls, “So I noticed.”

He scowls in her direction, but drops it almost immediately at the sight of her. She sits a few feet away, leaning against the railing with the sea breeze ruffling her hair. Her coat is thrown on like an afterthought (and it was, with the way she stormed out), and the silver of her dress sparkles in the moonlight. She’s even wearing heels, and her moonstone necklace is in its habitual spot on her collarbone.

She tried. She truly, honestly tried.

It makes it all the worse.

Gladion looks away, sliding further into his seat and loosening his tie, deciding there’s no point in keeping up appearances – it's not like everyone at the gala didn’t see them airing their dirty laundry in front of them.

“You didn’t have to take me home.” Her voice is too even, and she’s biting back the venom. She looks over at him, with narrowed eyes and absolute betrayal on her lips as she spits, “You  _shouldn’t_ have.”

And just like that she stokes the fire, and his nails dig into his skin as he clenches his fists. “We weren’t through with the conversation.”

“ _You_  aren’t done.” And there’s a flash of something like regret, like melancholy, like a tear forming in the corner of her eye. Moon blinks, looking away with a sigh. “I’m done.”

There’s an awful moment of panic, and then he realizes she’s only talking about tonight. Then he scolds himself, because how selfish for him to push her away only to want to pull her close. He forces himself to keep going, bringing up a memory to spite himself before he scoffs, “So you have nothing to say about the waiter you were flirting with?”

The noise she makes is incredulous and undignified, losing all of her composure. He knows every button to hit, and she can’t hate him for it but she comes very close in this moment. “How many times do I have to tell you that I wasn’t flirting?” Her voice is starting to pick up in volume, and the betrayal is back but it’s colored with fury; it’s a fury that doesn’t have much to do with him, but he’s always willing to make himself a target.

“You were alone with him in a hallway,” Gladion fires back, and the jealousy is still in the corners of his vision as he looks at her, red and searing.

“And six feet apart with nothing happening!” She stops herself, realizing with wide eyes that she’s yelling again, and she sits back. With her head in her hands, she takes a shaky breath, and he waits with a frown. When she finally raises her head, he can see the makeup around her eyes is beginning to smudge, and when she chuckles it’s a pitiful, broken sound. “But of course it’s my fault.”

He bites his cheek so hard that he tastes blood. “It is when you abandon me at my own gala.”

She falters, and her eyes go to the floor in guilt. His follow, because he isn’t much prouder of himself for continuing this ( _any_  of this). “I needed a break.”

“From what?”

The silence is heavy and smothering. She looks up at him, and now she’s on the verge of tears, and some sick part of him feels the better for it. If she’s going to hurt him like this, then he’s going to swing back, and hope and fear that this will be the last time she retaliates.

Moon shakes her head slowly, blinking back tears and swallowing the thorns in her throat. “Don’t make me say it.”

But now he needs to hear it, needs them to destroy each other – they've come this far, it’s only a matter of days before this all ends in fire. He sneers, turning away from her with a roll of his eyes. “You seemed to have no problem telling that waiter -”

“For the hundredth time -”

“No, I get it – why talk to me when you can get drunk and find some random stranger -”

“From you!” She stops, the sound of her desperate scream bringing her back to the moment, to realizing that they’re both standing and shouting at each other in the back of a boat. This is a boat ride they’ve taken hundreds of times, one that she’s always associated with the calm of the sea and the warmth of his presence. Now it’s turned bitter and cold, just like everything else festering between them. 

Rage leaves her face, replaced with hurt and embarrassment as he does his best to hold her gaze with a stone face. She shakes her head, trying to hide the tears by turning away, picking at her bottom lip as she watches the approaching island. He keeps his eyes on her back, but something feels off; it’s as if there’s a lens whenever he looks at her, and it’s getting harder and harder to read her. Her shoulders are shaking and he hears a sniffle, and Gladion can’t help but reach out an arm.

But he freezes, lets it fall through the air and back down to his side. There isn’t space for comfort, not in the hurt that he’s made his bed in.

She turns, and she has her own poker face on. However, her voice is unsteady, and there’s a nervous energy behind every syllable, as if she’s clinging to a sinking ship. “I needed a break from you, and all the awful things you say, and...” Moon trails off, and her eyes harden the longer she looks at him. He tries to remember what they looked like when they were soft and warm (but he's forgotten). She finishes weakly, “And the way you kept looking at me.”

He’s taken aback for a moment. Every interaction has been so calculated on his part, and he’s prided himself on not giving anything away. “How do I look at you?”

“Like I’ve broken your heart.”

Like the way she’s looking at him right now.

Some part of him wants to scream. Of course she’s broken his heart, and of course only now has she noticed. He can so vividly remember the day she turned to him and said she wanted to leave, and even now he can feel his heart splintering in the same places at the reminder of her temporary presence in her life.

And no matter how they kick and scream, they come back to each other, and Gladion finds himself falling in love with her in the quiet moments, only to have her break his heart the closer the day of her departure comes.

He swallows half of the truth and whispers the rest. “You have.”

“I know.” Her shoulders drop with the weight she’s been carrying, and she tears her eyes away from him. It’s never been fair that he can keep his cards so close to his chest when she becomes a crying mess. She can feel the boat beginning to dock, and it gives her the strength to damn it all and let him see her cry. She wears the streaks of mascara like a badge of honor, and his lips part in surprise as she hardens her own face. “And you’ve broken mine.”

There’s some far-off sound of an announcement that they’ve arrived, and Moon turns, feeling her very core beginning to shake with a sob as she walks towards the stairs. Gladion stands, frozen for a moment as he’s forced to face the very real consequences of this twisted game they’ve set up for themselves. When her feet touch the dock, he springs back into action, nearly sprinting to the stairs to join her, to prolong this, to do something so he can convince himself he’s in the right.

“ _No_.” Her voice cuts through the air and stabs right into his heart, freezing him once more. She looks up at him from the dock, hugging her coat closer to herself. In that moment, he thinks she might just hate him. Her hands fist into the material of the coat as she tells him, “Just go back.”

His hands grip the rails of the stairs tighter, and his voice is choked and small, far from the roar it started at earlier tonight. “We’re not done here.”

And she closes her eyes and shakes her head, small and broken in her gown and ruined makeup. There are only so many more bruises her heart can take before it collapses completely, and the marks from this last fight are more obvious than ever between them. When she opens her eyes, there’s an aching acceptance of the fact that she’s walking home alone, crying, again. She takes a deep breath, looking him in the eye as she whispers, “Yes, we are.”

He forgets how to breathe for a moment. They’ve pushed too far, he knows, but isn’t this what he wanted? Isn’t he ready to be alone again?

“I’ll call you when the party’s over.” She hums and turns, her heels clicking against the dock as she begins to walk away. He watches, and his heart clenches with regret, and the last of the adrenaline from their screaming match fuels his delusion – maybe he can fix this, maybe they can change, maybe all isn’t lost.

“I love you.”

She stops, and he waits with bated breath. There’s still time for him to join her, or for her to climb back onto the boat.

There’s still time for them.

But when she turns to look at him, he’s faced with the truth that he’s run out of time long ago. She gives him a lopsided smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, and a tear running down her cheek catches the light of the streetlamp. Her voice is raw, but it carries through the night.

“You make that very hard to believe.”

And she keeps walking, leaving him to stare as the boat begins to pull away. He gets further and further away, but he keeps his eyes on her figure, and her even, slow steps until she disappears from sight completely, leaving him utterly alone.

Tonight could have gone better.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I posted a fluffy "deleted scene" before for 100 followers, but the runner up was an angsty one, so here it is.
> 
> This all takes place about a week before they break up, or the first chapter of much ado, and yes it did physically pain me to write this


End file.
